[FxM] [FxF] Dark & Twisted Dreams [Fantasy & Fandoms] [NC & Extreme]

[Spero]

O/O | Discord Request | A/A

"A few misadventures & unfortunate events..."
High Fantasy | Modern | Modern Fantasy | Sci-Fi | Mecha | Cyberpunk
Warhammer 40/30k | Lancer | Dresden Files | Final Fantasy XIV | Other Fandoms

"Let's start a journey together..."
Please reach out to me over PM if you are interested in speaking with me, do NOT post here.

I am looking for a mix of Slice of Life & Casual or NC & EX roleplays where my character has to deal with a lot of challenges happening to them. I am willing to do things as simple as my character trying to navigate their way through life after moving to a new area all the way to having them kidnapped or taken prisoner. Maybe your character tricked them into something only to find out they are not as nice as they seemed or maybe they are trying to be friendly and helpful... for a price. I am willing to work with other Dark or Extreme themes as well. But I would like YC to be the villain, a bad person, or just not who they seem to be.

Welcome, if you are reading this I assume I have somehow caught your eye. Within these pages, you will find everything you need to know about plotting our next adventure together. Though be warned, my worlds are not always kind. Dark, Extreme & Cruel things often happen, mixed among the Romance, Slice-of-Life, & Lighter Touches. Things that will push my muse to deal with all the twists and turns one might throw their way. I am a fan of Gothic Horror, The Occult, Dark Fantasy, & Cyberpunk. If these are things you are not okay with, this might not be the path for you. Yet, if you still wish to continue I assure you, our journey will be one to remember.

"About the author,"


Some basic info:
I go by a few names online: Spero, Eri, Fox, Oni
Female // 35 // Demisexual
I have been roleplaying since: 2006
I live in the CST/US Timezone
I only RP with people & characters 21+ years or older
OOC Friendly -- Does not mix OOC & IC

I have been roleplaying on and off for a little over sixteen years. This includes things like text-based writing such as Forums and Private Messages, writing over MMOs such as Final Fantasy 14 & Guild Wars 2 an even enjoying Table Top Roleplaying games such as Pathfinder, D&D & Lancer. I have and still do DM a few games, though I have played in a lot more. That being said, when it comes to text-based writing I enjoy doing free-form posts unless actually doing a D&D-type game.

I do most of my RPs over Discord (where I spend most of my day when I am not at work.) However, I am also open to roleplaying on platforms like Elliquiy.

Outside of writing, I enjoy things like painting Warhammer models, listening to music, and reading books. I also enjoy playing video games, currently, I'm playing BG3, Palia, & Final Fantasy X.

Forming OOC connections with my partners is important to me, I enjoy talking to the people I write with whether it's to bounce ideas back and forth or just talk about things like work or what's going on with our day. Forming long, lasting friendships that can span over many different stories. I find it easier to write detailed stories with people that I connect with. Communication is always key. So don’t be shy to send me a PM so we can talk and plot things out. So while I am looking for people to RP with, I am also looking for people to build friendships with as well. So even if you don't want to RP with me, I would love to just chat as well.

"...So we can write a story together."


At the moment I am most interested in doing Dark Fantasy, Cyberpunk, or Modern themed roleplay or stories set in Warhammer: 40k, Lancer, or Dresden Files. That being said, I love world-building & creating a world of our own to explore. When it comes to fandoms I don't mind alternate universes where things happen differently than the lore that has already been established. That being said, when it comes to roleplay I do have some preferred things I like to see. I will list them below.

---RP Medium:---
-- Discord [FoxNClocks]
-- Elliquiy Forums (Five Slots)

---RP Type:---
--Enjoys Episodic, Long Term or Short Term RPs.
--Dark or Extreme Themes welcomed.
--Light Hearted, Slice of Life Themes welcomed.
--One x One

---Desired Genre/Pairings/Settings:---
--Dark/High Fantasy
--Cyberpunk
--Sci-Fi/Mecha
--Modern/Modern Fantasy
--BG3
--Warhammer 40k or 30k

---Preferred Characters Played:---
I play Female & NB Characters that tend to be Submissive & attracted to Male & Female characters.

---Perspective (First, Second or Third Person.):---
Third-Person Story with First-Person Conversations.

---Desired Reply Length:---
Mirroring, 3-5 paragraphs, though my post length fluctuates based on what is immediately happening in the roleplay. Details in the post are a MUST! When it comes to detail: I want to know what your character(s) is feeling, doing, wanting. I like fluff in my post, meaning what your character is thinking or feeling at the time.

---18+ & NSFW:---
--Yes
--Story Focused Stories:I enjoy writing smut. Pure smut stories will be Short Term Only, however. If you wish to write long-term stories with me, please understand they will be more story and character-development-based.
--Kink list available on via Elliquily's: "My Role Play Preferences."

"The Settings"


"Dark Fantasy"
• High Fantasy
•• Any plot dealing with having my character taken against their will, such as Kidnapping, being Captured or POW is a favorite.
•• Barbarian x Village Woman | Caravan Master's Daugther | Fae/Elf | Noble's Daughter
•• Mercenary x Village Woman | Caravan Master's Daugther | Fae/Elf | Noble's Daughter

•• Bandit(s) x Village Woman | Caravan Master's Daugther | Lone Merchant | Fae/Elf | Noble's Daughter
•• Enemy Soldier | Captain | Knight x Village Woman | Caravan Master's Daugther | Fae/Elf | Noble's Daughter
•• Nobleman x Village Woman | Caravan Master's Daugther | Fae/Elf | Noble's Daughter
•• Arranged Marriage
•• Necromancer | Lich x Human | Elven Girl

• Alternative History | History Fantasy
•• Norseman x Captured Slave
•• Romain Soldier x Captured Slave
•• World War II -- Enemy Soldier x POW

"Sci-Fi"
• Warhammer 40k
• Warhammer 30k
• Lancer | Mecha
• Cyberpunk
• Shadowrun
• Eclipse Phase

"Modern Fantasy"
• Dresden Files
• Mage x Mage
• Mage x Vampire
• Mage x Werewolf
• Arranged Marriage

"Modern"
• Twin x Twin
• Step Brother x Step Sister
• Military Setting
• Office Setting
• College Setting
• Vacation/Cruise

"Fandoms"
• Wheel of Time
• BG3
• Final Fantasy XIV

"Other"
• Slave x Slave
• Master x Slave
• Werewolf x Werewolf
• Angel x Demon

"The Muses Within"


"Fantasy"

• Eri -- A young spymaster & merchant who tends to get herself into a bit of trouble. (FxM) (FxF) (Female, Half-Elf) • Zara -- Human outcast, sent away from her village after being deemed a witch. (FxM) (FxF) (Female, Human)

• Arzula -- Inn Keeper's daughter who dreams of Adventure. (FxM) (FxF) (Female, Human) • Eliyen -- Elf Alchemist who was raised by druids. (FxM) (FxF) (Female, Wood Elf)

• Aine -- Fae Princess striking out on her own in hopes to find a way to stop the war between her people and humans (FxM) (FxF) (Female, Fea/Elf) • Ellia -- The daughter of a caravan master. (FxM) (FxF) (Female, Human)

"Warhammer 40k"

• Spero -- 30k Remembrancer however, she can be brought into 40k. (FxM Primarily) (FxF) (Female, Human/Perpetual)

• Zethina -- 40k Inquisitor, member of the Ordo Xenos. (FxM) (FxF) (Female, Inquisitor or Psyker)

• Audrei -- 40k or 30k serf, war orphan & tends to serve Astartes Chapters or Warbands. (FxM) (FxF) (Female, Human.)

"Modern Fantasy"

• Alex -- A rouge wizard trying to make a living on the streets. (FxM) (FxF) (Female, Human.) • Elizabith -- The daughter of wizard "nobility" and has found herself in a bit of trouble. (FxM) (FxF) (Female, Human.)

[Spero]

"When a young woman finds herself alone, a charming villain takes the stage..."

Even if a prompt is taken, I am still willing to work out a plot with a similar setting.



"An our story starts here..."
Please reach out to me over PM if you are interested in speaking with me, do NOT post here.
Also, please note if you don't see something you like here: We can always pick one of the pairings/settings above and plot our own.

Plot One: -- RPing with: Pink Professional
-- Warhammer 40k
-- Main Pairing: Inquistor x Psyker
-- Altertive Pairings: Astartes x Psyker | Guard Captain x Psyker | Black Sentinal x Psyker

When a young Psyker finds herself as one of the last surviving people of some kind of attack, she finds herself very much alone. Worse still, fingers are people pointed at her and whispers of "black ships" feel the air. What will happen when she is found by YC, contained and ready to be shipped back to Terra?

Zethina laid in a medical bed upon one of the ships that now circled the planet she had been on. Things had been going so well, not as good as others, but better than her other duty stations. For the most part, people just left her alone when she was not on the job. Sure she still got blamed for things that happened here and there, but she had gotten used to that kind of thing long ago. Keeping her head low and working hard. It had worked well, always moving forward and not backward. No matter how much they tried to find a flaw in her.

But now, things were looking bad, really bad. And there was a knot the size of her fist in her gut that told her....they were going to try and find some way to pin all of this on her. After all, she had been in the area when the base's power failed and the enemy forces pushed thru. She had used her power to try to hold the line, but something had happened. Something had gone really wrong, really fast and she could not remember. All she knew now was, her life was pain. Her leg hurt and she had already been threw a few surgeries, and the medical personnel were not even sure if she would walk again on it. Zethina had overheard that much when they were not talking about her in other ways that is.

With a deep breath, she finally allowed her eyes to clothes. Her head to rest on the soft pillow, hands pulling at the warm blankets that covered her bed. The nice heavy ones they only ever seemed to use in the medical wing. Her mind tried to wonder, to go to darker places like the thoughts of the Black Ships that might be on there way to get her, but Zethina was skilled enough, strong enough to rein her mind back in. Pushing thoughts to the back of her mind until there was nothing more than the gentle humming of silence.

It was her own mumbling that brought her back to the world of the living. A bit submissive...never show your fangs. The words left her lips without even a thought, she didn't know why she did it. It had always been a tick of her's, ever since she left Terra....repeating over and over the last thing her only friend had ever told her. A whisper in the night until the dragged the two girls apart. One would head to the fleet and the other. It made her shiver, surely her friend had made it out as well. The other girl had been just as strong as Zethina, sure she was lacking a bit of control, but that was something that could be learned. And sure she was not as mild-tempered as Zethina had been. But, Zethina had always been a bit tame.

Something caught her eyes, and slowly Zethina looked up. Her breath caught in her throat and her heart seemed to fall to her knees. Bright eyes locking on the rosette that hung from the man's side.

Plot Two: -- RPing with: TheWanderingMuse
-- Dark Fantasy
-- Main Pairing: Mercenaries x Village Outcast
-- Altertive Pairings: Raiders | Bandits | Soldiers | Barbarians

A village girl, the daughter of a mercenary soldier who was most of his time campaigning so she saw little of him except when he came home for a short time with money for her and her mother. It was a hard life because her mom's decision to marry that man was not well regarded by the rest of the village. According to them, husbands should stay with their wives at home working honestly in the fields a not going to fight in faraway wars. That her mother was a wise woman who had knowledge in herbs and midwifery did not help at all. She was needed but disliked for her independent ways and the fact that she was not shy to say what she thought. My character was seen as the tomboyish girl who liked to play in the forest with the boys and could kick their asses when it came to fighting with makeshift wooden swords.

Things got worse when her father failed to return, months passed without him coming and then she lost hope in seeing him again. My character never knew what happened to him but her mother had always feared that something like this would happen, he had a dangerous job after all. Without her father's money, the situation worsened for her and her mother. She did not own much land and her side job as a midwife just paid enough to barely survive. My character helped as much as she could but there were days when there was not much to eat. Then another blow fell on her. The girl's mother died in strange circumstances. She was found dead with a heavy blow in her head and the village mayor decided that it had been an accident but she always suspected foul play by the local priest of the god of light and justice.

Things become desperate for her. The girl's friends turned their back on her, some for fear of being seen with her and others out of pettiness. She was cheated of your meager inheritance when the village mayor said that her mother was indebted to him and produced a document that according to him her mother had signed. She had never told her anything about that and the signature in the document was not hers but the girl's complaints did not move Lord's reeve to settle the matter by giving the village mayor her mother's land. This left her with a small cabin in the woods near the village, that was her father's property so they couldn't take it from her. She subsisted poaching in the lord's forest (he never came to hunt the bastard) and selling herbs and remedies which attracted the wrath of the priest who was already muttering the word "witch".

The evening breeze seemed to be filled with the smell of winter snow from the northern mountains above, a sign that winter was indeed nearing the Forest north of Cragcross. The little village of Cresthill had always known wealth. From the mining of the White Mountains to their north, the rich forest of the West and the rolling farmlands to the south-east there were few of this little town that new hardship. Autumn had already turned the trees gold, red and orange, the colors giving an almost magical feel to the valley like area. But that was how she always felt. One of the few of this land that new hardship. The outcast. With a sigh the young woman looked up, the moon was her only friend this evening, as it was most nights as she traveled down the paths outside of the small village. The stone of the road cold on her feet as she made her way along the rich farmlands outside of Cresthill.

This had been a journey she had many countless times before, giving her no reason to worry about the looming danger ahead. She often moved about at night, it was when the people of her old home were less likely to see her as she raided crops and items of use from them. The outlining farms, after all, were full of harvest crops. None of them would miss a few things here and a few things there. If a chicken went missing in the middle of the night, it was a fox to blame. Not her. No, she was one that would never come into their little village. Not anymore. Not after everything that had happened in her youth.
A smirk pulled at her lips with the lie. A smirk that seemed to be short-lived as she smelt something like burning wood. The acrid smell of burning thatched roofing. Then came the sounds of screams, cries. Up ahead shadows seemed to dance wildly in the light of flames that reached for the night sky. The little wildling found herself drawn to it. A part of her waiting to know what was happening, why the night seemed to fill with dread when normally it was so peaceful. Watching from the tree line and underbrush as all those souls who had damned her and her mother....a sinking feeling in her chest caught off her thoughts. Had someone finally answered her prayers? Her wrath was being done for her.

In front of her people fled from their homes as others drew swords and bows trying to defend their small village. But they were no warriors or trained guards, no the men of this town were no better the few hunters that called this place home. Miners and farmers armed with hand me down weapons and tools. Zara watched with horror in her heart as she watched people with actual weapons and skill moved among them. The fighting seeming to be short and bloody as village people tried to flee into the fields around their homes. A few of them seem to be herded up like cattle and loot was dragged from homes and stacked in the village square.

There was no gold or jewels. No there were instead barrels of spirits and wine, crates and baskets of harvested crops. A few fine horses. Tools. Cloths. Blankets. Useful things.

She had lost time watching everything that happened, she had not noticed when someone came up behind her.

Plot Three:
-- Dark Fantasy
-- Main Pairing: Caravan Guards x Village Girl
-- Altertive Pairings: Raiders | Bandits | Soldiers | Barbarians | Mercenary

A young woman, the daughter of the local Inn Keeper, has always dreamed of adventure and seeing the world. Little did she know her chance would come one night after returning home, the caravan she loved to meet with never showing up. Or that she would find out what the Red tent was that they set up outside of town every year. 

Zerla sat outside of her little town for the better part of the day, watching the road that leads into the little farming village. A sigh on her lips as she watched the sun move and the shadows slowly change. It was about mid-afternoon when one of the local guards came down from their tower to check on her. Not that they were really guards, more like local hunters and farmers that knew how to use spear and bow, each taking turns to watch the roads and keep the wild animals out of the town. It made people feel safer, that was what mattered.

“You should really head home Zerla, it’s looking like they might not make it in until late. Besides your mom is most likely worried about you.” The Guard took a knee next to her. Looking down the road as she did.

“I’m in trouble, either way, I skipped out on my chores to meet with the merchants. All that matters now is when my mother will tan my hide. Not how hard.” They both laughed for a moment, and with a wave, the man moved back to the little stone and wood tower that oversaw the road.

It was not until the first stars started to appear in the sky that she finally gives up, standing slowly as she turned to head back to town. The lights of the little village danced in the night from the windows. The road dark, it would take her a while to get back. Damn, she had forgotten how far the walk was….her mom was going to do more than tan her hide.

Zerla moved down the road, passing the graveyard and stopped. Her head tilting as she saw a young figure coming closer to her, the night was dark so it was not until she got closer did Zerla see who it was, “Rose? What are you doing out here this time of night?”

The other woman froze in her steps, it had been dark and she had not known it was Zerla coming up the road. She had thought it someone else. The girl’s body freezing as Zerla drew closer, “Zerla? What are you doing out here?”“Heading home after the Caravan didn’t show. I must have miss judged the time…” She paused, Rose had not answered her question and now that the woman was closer Zerla could see a bag over her shoulder. “Oh, come now Rose, running away? Is that Limmus boy waiting for you somewhere around here? Look just because your parents will not let you marry him does not mean you two should run away together.”

Rose’s face went pale, “No…Zerla look it’s not like that.” The girl looked around as if waiting for something to happen at any moment. “You should leave?”

“And you should come back with me Rose, it’s late.” Zerla blinked as Rose grabbed her arm.“No Zerla, look you don’t understand, you should leave. With me. Right now, before they get here.” Rose was shaking like a leaf.

“Rose, what are you talking about. Before who gets here?”

Rose had Zerla by the arm, trying to pull her down the road and away from the village. She did not answer Zerla’s question. But even in the dark, it was clear, something or someone had put a terror into Rose’s heart. Zerla pulling away from the girl, upset and a bit angry, “Look I don’t have times for your silly jokes and trying to scare me. Who put you up to this?”

It was like she said the magic words, a few blinks and she saw men all around her. Their dark armor having kept them hidden up until the last moment. Rose grabbed onto Zerla in a crushing hug, and Zerla did the same to Rose, “Rose what did you do?”

Continue

Her attention so focused on her "friend," Zerla could scarcely notice the blow before it hit the back of her knee. Rough hands then grabbed her and covered her mouth before her world went darker with the sack tied over her head. In her struggles she could hear them.

"Keep your voice down, slut!" the low voice hissed. These were obviously men who knew how to move quietly. "And stop yer sobbin', yer not even bleedin'. Now git, and head back to camp." The soft footfalls came back to where Zerla was held, one hand trapping her arm and squeezing her bosom roughly. "You, too," she heard the voice very close now. "Keep quiet or it'll be more than tits we use to carry you."

Soon enough, her hands were bound behind her and she was forced back to her knees. Through the sack covering her head she got a whiff of burning hay and then heard the alarms. Several minutes passed before she could hear more people coming, some of them trying to raise a cry muffled cry answered by wet smacks. "Get 'em up," the voice again. "Let's get outta here 'fore they figure what's been done."



Zerla let out a startled cry as pain shot through her knees, her hands grinding into the dirt and small sharp stones of the path. Shock overtook her but she could not scream as the warmth of a hand covered her mouth. Holding back any sound she could make. Then, everything went dark. Her hands grasping and clawing at anything she could. The bag tightening around her throat the more she fought.

Still, she heard the men talk to Rose. She could hear them telling her to stop crying, a part of her scared that the same would happen to Rose as was happening to her. Yet, she heard them order her to go back to camp. The sound of sobbing stopping as she heard the steps of someone running. Anger and fear made her blood run hot and cold at the same time. A gasp leaving her throat as she felt someone grope her. Holding her arms behind her.

The rough texture of robe binding her wrist together before she was forced onto her knees. The smell of something burning...her eyes darted in the darkness of the sack as she tried to look around. Something that was useless to even try. She could hear the cries of people, and she tried to call out to them For someone to help her, only to be pulled from her knees to her feet. To walk blindly into the night.



After marching for who knows how long, Zerla seems to have lost track with the number of times she stumbles blindly in the dark, she finally stops on what seems like flat ground. She can smell another fire, this one clearly a campfire by the woodsmoke and a lingering stew. Forced to her knees again, the sack is abruptly ripped off her head and she finds she is, indeed, in a campsite. A couple of wagons stand on the far side of the fire, a cast-iron spit erected over it. They seem familiar, somehow.

Zerla spies Rose huddled against the wheel of one of the wagons, well part of her. She is facing Zerla, or would be if not for the man in front of her, strangely swaying towards her. Very quickly, she can see the man's cock moving in and out of Rose's mouth, her hands on him but offering no resistance. He turns to Zerla with an imperious grin. He pulls out of Rose and strides across the camp to Zerla, his full manhood mingling with the hanging straps of his armored belt. Rose futilely crawls after him, stopping after two paces, looking as if she's about to wail. With a wave of his hand, Zerla and the rest of the people brought here are stood up. She fully notices for the first time her fellow captives.

The Millers are here, all in their nightclothes. The father, nearly 40, blood congealing in his scalp, the mother, their two sons, each bruised and dirtied, The older sons' wife, and their daughters who haven't been married off. All witness to Rose and this, this.... Bandit?

No, Zerla begins to realize. The lead wagon, with its solid structure, she's seen it before. Part of the caravan. They must have ambushed it. But she can see colors beneath the darkened armor they wear. The colors of the caravan's guards. Is it the caravan that has taken them?



Zerla watched with discuss as the woman that had brought her into this sucked the man’s cock, seeming unware that all of this was happening around her. That she didn’t know what was being done to the people of her village. More anger seemed to light her blood aflame when she watched the dirty bitch crawl after the man as he pulled way, that hungry and lustful look on her face fading when she saw Zerla and the others.

The woman snarled, the others next to her whimpering and crying as they looked about. Sorrow in their eyes as they saw Rose, most likely thinking she had been captured along with them. Not knowing what Zerla did, how this woman had betrayed them all. Rose seeming to sink back into the shadows of the wagon, her voice calling out. A lie to try and save her own skin, “How could you have done this to us Zerla! Why did you not warn us that the caravan would do this, I know they are your friends….that you want for nothing but their stories...but why did you have to do this to us!”

Zerla’s eyes went wide, the woman almost throwing herself forward as she cried out, “You lying bitch!” Her words caught some as two of the guards pulled her back, the Millers turning to look at Zerla in shock. After all, everyone knew how friendly the Innkeeper's Daughter was with the merchants.



"Starting to figure it out?" the man asks mockingly. He walks the line of the prisoners to Miller's sons. "Ask these two what happens in the blue tent in our camp." He grins at the younger Miller women. "Now you," he troops back over to Zerla, voice low just for the both of them, "you weren't on the menu. But gift horses and all that." He grasps her jaw with a rough hand before moving it down her throat down to the neck of her chemise. A full hand of her bosom, hefting and squeezing, finding a nipple through the linen. "Hmm," he absently assesses before moving his hand down her bodice. "Now what will I find under here?" he mocks as his hand comes over her skirts. When his hand covers her sex over them, he calls out, "Strega!"

An old women shuffles down from the box wagon, dressed in all manner of garish scarves over her dress and skirts. One by one, she follows the path the man took, eyeing the prisoners, seeming to sniff at them as she passes. She taps the older of the Miller daughters with a single gnarled finger to the middle of her forehead then moves on the younger and stops short of doing the same. She sniffs again, behind her ear, the other side of her neck. "Heh, heh, who was he, girl?" her cracked voice nearly hacks out the words wrapped in ancient phlegm. "This one," her finger pokes forcefully into the older daughter's chest, "this one still has worth enough not to touch. Your little cunny...tsch." A short, coughing laugh escapes the crone's mouth as Zerla can see eyes of the Miller parents widen and the man holding the younger Miller girl wraps a hand around her neck, his leer eerily visible in the firelight.

Finally, she comes to Zerla, the probable leader still feeling at her over her skirts. The crone smacks his hand away as she peers up at Zerla, her head barely reaching the younger woman's bust. "Heh, what about you, girl? You been a naughty slut, like your wanton girl, there?" She motions toward Rose before she begins to snuffle, starting with Zerla's chest.

Plot Four:
-- Modern Fantasy
-- Main Pairing: Brother x Sister | Mage x Mage

In a world where Mages guard over cities with their grand cabals, a young woman returns home to her brother. Seeking protection from one of the "Blanks" that is now hunting her. However, in this world, the eldest child is given control over the House, while the younger siblings that return home must bend a knee. For failure to find power on their own is a sign of weakness that can not be forgiven.

Ashlyn stared out of the window of the 747 as it came in for its landing, the ground below growing ever closer as the presser in the cabin shifted. Her ears popped as she crewed some fun that had been offered to her by a friendly flight stewart, they had been really friendly this flight. Or at less to her. Then again Ash just looked like she was running away from something. Her hazel eyes were a bit red, her face long. Her hands twitched as she fiddled with anything she could get her hands on. The truth is she was running away from something, and her last hope rested somewhere in the massive city just ahead over her. The skyline seeming to swallow up half the sky as the aircraft dove lower and lower in a gentle slope.

She was running from something, however. Something her family had warned her about and had come to pass. Ash was a mage, a damn good one at that, however unlike her siblings who had went off to form their own Cabals or join ones of notable reputation Ash had ran off to see the world. To live her life free and away from the politics she saw as foolish and overbearing. The Cabals that kept her kind safe...now she found herself not only cut off from her family's money but on the run from a banisher that happened to be her ex-husband’s brother.

She still recalled the phone conversation that had had a few days ago as well. The one when she called her brother to talk...at first he refused to give her any more money, but that had not been what she had called for. No, she wanted to come see him. She needed to talk. She needed...to come home. And out of all her family her and her eldest brother had always been the closest. Something about her being the youngest, though their relationship had been strained at best for the past few years. He wanted her to grow up, she wanted to live her life...and now here she was.

Ash’s thoughts shook as the plane touched down. The cabin shaking some as the massive thing went from flying, to rolling along the ground. Slowing and pulling into the terminal.

She didn't have much to her name, not anymore. A backpack & duffle, both which she could handle just fine on her own. Though the man her brother sent to get her insisted on helping her out, by the sigil ring he wore on the middle finger of his right hand Ash knew he to was a mage, a Pryokin like herself who held some rank within her brother’s Cabal. Seeing that he was sent to bring her home, she had a feeling her brother trusted this man even if she never got his name. There was not much talking, mostly because she had to much on her mind to really say anything. And it seemed he knew better than to pry to deep.

It took a while to get where they needed to be, even late in the evening traffic was in full swing. The music on the radio gave life to the long ride, even if all she did was stare out the windows at the lights and life of the city. At one point the man reached over to give her leg a shake, insure her everything was going to be okay. That her brother was happy to see her. Ash could only offer a weak smile in turn.

The building they stopped before could only be called a modern work of art, the glass, stone and steel reaching high into the sky. A giant in its own right. The kind of place people didn't live unless they had money. And the one thing her family had in spades was money. Most Pryokin had money, something about that deep running flame of passion that made them good at things like politics or law or hell even things that came to the arts. But every element seemed to have to click, Aeroken for example made good teachers and historians. Geokin made good soldiers. Hydrokin made good Psychopaths. See everyone had their thing. 

Ash blinked some as the elevator sprang to life, the screen on the top of the sliding doors pinging to life, letting them know just what floor they were passing. Stopping on the 21st floor. Funny...not the top floor. It opened, and her guide stepped out. Hazel eyes looking over the hall which housed 18 identical doors. Eight on each side, one on each end. So down the hall she went, following the man who took her bags from her. One of the doors on the end and when those doors opened she found her brother’s home breathtaking. Tall vaulted ceilings met with large glass windows which opened up the livingroom to the city view below.

Lounging in front of the windows on leather couches were five men she didn’t know, but by the rings they wore on their fingers she knew they belonged here. Apart of her brother’s cabal, as were the women that nuzzled into their sides or cuddled against their legs as they sat on the ground. Some kind of pay-per-view playing on the TV as all eyes feel on her, a hand moving to rest on the small of her back. Pushing her forward and past the others. Out onto the large balcony overlooking the million dollar view. Finally, a face she knew and knew well. Finally a smile parted her lips as a seat was offered to her, and the one that had taken care of her took his leave.

Yet, Ash didn’t take the seat. One step, then another...and the girl found herself on her knees at her brother’s feet. Putting her head into his lap as her arms wrapped around his calves. The words just flowing from her lips as she nuzzled into something safe and familiar, “I want to come home...please let me come home.” It was a rare request, very rare among any mages to return to their families. Like the nobles of old where the oldest child inherited their father’s deeds, while the younger siblings bowed knee or left. For her to beg to reenter her brother’s home, would to be give up everything, her titles and wealth. To serve under him as all the others in his home did. 

Yet here she was, in tears, begging to come home. Things must have been bad for her to give up such freedoms.

Plot Five:
-- Dresden Files
-- Main Pairing: Warden x Mage

Dani had spent most of her young life on the streets of New Orleans, today was no different. It was early, but even then the hot southern sun made the day hot and muggy. The fact that it rained the night before did not help the humidity of the city, not that it stopped people. No, people from all around the world walked the streets of the French Quarter taking in the history and culture the town had to offer. The young girl knew she had to move fast if she wanted to get a good spot in Jackson Square, the place always packed full of people trying to do the same thing she was...trying to earn a living. Not always an honest living, but a living.

But Dani had one thing the many of other’s did not have...sure the self-proclaimed did have the talent to read people and play along, a few even thought they had the gift to read cards, runes and other objects of divination...Dani however, did have the gift. She could read the cards, runes and if she was really feeling like milking them for all they were worth, she could read a person’s mind as well. Because, well, Dani was a Wizard. Well, not a Wizard of the White Council, but she could use magic.

And she had gotten good at avoiding the blades of the Witch Hunters...ummm….wardens. Not that she had ever done anything to draw their eye, but she also made sure not to. The young magic user had heard the horror stories that came with the Wizards in gray cloaks and their silver swords during her time on the streets. The floods of 2005 had left a lot of orphans like her, and like her, a few had turned out to be gifted. Though they never did get claimed or picked up, the White Council never swooped in to save the young souls who felt as though a blind eye had been turned to them. So like her kin, she kept her head low and did only what she had to in order to survive.

So when Dani finally made it to the Square, she found herself a nice little spot. Setting up her thick blanket and all her tools of the trade upon it. Her backpack which held all her earthly possession was set up against the low stone wall behind her and there she sat, waiting for her first target...umm, customer. Next to her Madam Star sat up her little table, all the bells, and whistles that made Dani’s blanket look plain. But Dani knew the woman, and she knew what was coming next.

“Darling,” Madam Star started, digging out a bottle of water and two sandwiches to give to the skinny young girl that looked more like a young boy than a woman of eighteen. “You look like you're starving, Darling. I swear, one day I’m just going to have to take you home one of these days and have my sister fatten you up.” Dani took the gifts and smiled, the Madam tried so hard to have the natural Cajun accent and charm, doing well with it: if she was in an over the top movie. Truth be told, Dani pegged Star from being from California, or maybe Navadia..New Mexico. One of those states that didn’t really have an accent. Maybe Chicago? Did people from Chicago from have an accent?

“Thank you, Madam,” Dani had an honest accent, soft and not overdone. Like someone that was born and raised in the south. One that came as naturally as she took a breath. The two sat down and spoke as they waited for the Square to start to fill, once more Dani turning down the invitation for dinner. Offering to repay the woman for the food offered, and was turned down like always. It was a daily dance they did, street friends one might say.

It was around noon that something happened that made Dani’s stomach drop to her toes. They seemed to pass through the crowd like phantoms. No one paying mind to the three men in gray cloaks, despite it being deathly hot out, and swords at their hips. But she had caught their movements, not realizing until it was too late that she was staring. One of them turning as if feeling her eyes on his back, Dani quickly looking away and as did the man. Funny, she could tell the future of anyone that passed in more or less detail if she really tired. But she could never see her own fate. Blessing and a curse as some say. But seeing the men was enough to have her packing up and leaving early. Only a hundred or so dollars to show for her day of work. Not bad for most, but for her...it was not enough. It was never enough.

*    *    *    *    *

Dani spent the better part of four hours getting lost in the grid that was the French Quarter of New Orleans. She knew the streets like the back of her hand, she could only hope that the tell that was following her did not know it as well. A left turn here, a right turn there. Acting like she knew just where she was going and had a place she was aiming to get to. Every now and then she would lose one of the people following her just to pick up another.

What the fuck was going on that now, of all times, the Council would find her interesting. Maybe she cheated the wrong person out of their money one too many times? She let out a sign. Remember that fact about her not being able to see her own fate…

Dani found herself walking right into three people she really did not want to see. Lucky for her it was an open street and not a dark ally, “Afternoon Dani…”

“Old buddy, old pal, dear friends of mine…” She smiled at the three young men she knew to be bouncers at a local club. Ran by the local Red Court...who she might owe a debt to. The young wizard smiled as two of the men looked around, the third picking Dani up by the collar of her shirt, “Oh come not Markus...we don’t need to do this here...now. I told Madam Rouge I would have her money and I will have her money by this weekend I swear.”

“Funny...word on the street is you’re trying to leave town.” Dani swallowed hard, the man looking her in the face but not quite the eyes. “I know you're not dumb enough to do that, right Dani?”

“Me...never. Come on Markus, since when have I been ever late with a payment?” Her answer was a right hook to the gut which left her on the ground and her world spinning.

“Never, and don’t start now Dani. You know we are watching.” Dani watched as the small gang walked away, and as they turned down one street she saw someone turn down another and start walking her way. Tears started to mist her eyes, and not because she just got sucker punched. Fucking Wardens...one closing in on her from both directions. What did she do to piss off the fates today that she would be put in this kind of a mess?

Plot Six:
-- Dark Fantasy
-- Main Pairing: Human Prince x Fae Princess

As the prompt hints, I will be playing a young Fae princess who has found her way into human lands. Maybe seeking adventures, maybe on a quest to help her people, when she is captured by a group of Highway Men. YC would be the young prince, adventurer, knight that saves her... however it turns out your plans for saving her are not as pure as she is lead to believe. The young fae being tricked or forced into helping your character... Along with other things.

The coarse ropes chafed against her wrists, haphazardly knotted, but sufficiently secure to prevent escape. The clumsy, raucous motley band of bandits would never have had a prayer of getting the drop on Aine were she closer to her home, or more proactive with the ritual her people had to perform to renew their bond with the sacred groves. Inside her father's leafy palace, it was never a concern, as the air positively brimmed with traces of magic, and of course, there was never any need to use it to fend off an attack. Out here though, she'd learned too late that far greater care needed to be taken.

“Look at the ears on her, Ralf, bet we could fetch a mighty fine price for a fae. Never seen one this far from their accursed forests.” The man speaking had a splotchy red nose and jowly chin, with the reedy, whiney voice of a sycophant. He was addressing their leader, a burly specimen standing a head taller than the rest, and armed with the closest thing to a proper weapon, though even his sword had specks of rust along the blade. “Oh aye, I know a trader in the village we passed this morning, he'd be happy to take her off our hands.” Ralf's small pink tongue darted out to moisten the unkempt mustache on his lip.

“He ain't going nowhere though, is he?” Another of the group spoke up, looking up from a bow he was striving and failing to re-string. A leering expression darkened his already cruel features as his eyes fixed on the fae's supple body, clad in skin-tight soft bark sung from trees rather than stitched from cloth. “Might be we could have some fun with her, so long as we're careful not to tarnish the merchandise, as it were.” Ralf looked at the speaker, then back at Aine. “Aye, I reckon if we take turns, she'll be no worse for the wear.”

He opened his mouth to say something else, but all that emerged was a gurgle as an object whizzed through the air, too quick to identify. Ralf let out a gurgle, blood spilling out over his chin and turned to show his men the dagger's handle suddenly sprouting from his throat. He motioned as if meaning to pull it out, then collapsed to the ground. From behind a lightning-scorched elm, a man in finer armor than the bandit band could have pieced together if everyone pitched in emerged.

He hefted a longsword casually with his left hand, a relaxed and self-assured smile playing about his jawline, lightly dusted with stubble matching his coal-black hair, freshly sheared, and by an incompetent barber by the looks of it. Steady blue eyes surveyed the remaining four bandits, each having by now stirred themselves to action, wielding crude clubs, daggers, and one spear with a cracked shaft. The ease with which their leader had been dispatched gave them pause, and they exchanged nervous glances.

“Well? Who's feeling brave enough to die first?” the man challenged them, in a tone whose refinement hinted at time spent around fine society. The man who proposed selling fae to the collector was the first to bolt, and the one who pitched using her to sate their baser urges was the last, keeping a wary eye on the new arrival as he retreated. Yanking his dagger free of Ralf's neck, he wiped it off on the dirt, then approached Aine. “Be still,” he commanded her, tone soothing but firm as he leveled the blade mere inches from her chest, then with a few quick jerks, cut her arms and legs free. “There you are. Free as a bird. Though if you don't mind me asking, what's a fae doing wandering so far from the Emerald Forest?”

[Spero]

Plot Seven:
-- Dark Fantasy
-- Main Pairing: Bandit x Village Girl
-- Altertive Pairings: Barbarian x Village Girl (Human or Elf) | Mercenary x Village Girl (Human or Elf) | Bandit x Village Girl (Human or Elf) | Soldier x Village Girl (Human or Elf)

When words of Bandits come to a small and sleepy village, a young woman finds her father's farm under attack. What happens next will change her life forever as she is taken far from home and forced into a life she would never dream of.

The sun stood halfway down from the peak of noonday by the time Eliana watched her father’s cart reach their little farmhouse. It was not a big house by any means, not nearly so large as some of the other farmsteads. No, some of those dwellings could hold entries families, generations under one roof. No, here most of the rooms were on one floor, a rectangle with no additions. Whitewash all but gone from the wooden walls from the winter storms, but it was still in good repair. The thatch tightly mended and doors well-hung. 

The farm fit the house, barn and stone pen formed the points around a farmyard, there a few chickens ventured out to scratch at the dirt ground. All the while Eliana has been busy with her daily chores. Eggs needed gathering, more so now that the hens seemed to be getting clever about hiding them. A hoe needed to be put to the vegetable garden, though she found herself slacking as her father came to settle on a bench near their home.

A water bucket sitting near his feet and spear in his hand. Hunting bow and quiver close at hand… She had not even seen him duck into their home to get them. When he saw his daughter eyeing them, the older man smiled softly, “Word of bandits, nothing to worry about. Get your chores done and then we will get dinner going.”

“Any words from the merchants in town?” She asked, a bit hopeful that her father had a story or two to tell her. Yet, he only shook his head softly and pointed toward the yard. Hinting at the things she needed to do before dinner. But, her father had been good on his word, by the time she finished and found herself inside their little home the aroma from the stewpot permeated the small living area.

As her father stirred the stewpot, Eliana found herself rushing to wash her face and hands; even if it was a hot bath that she wanted, that would have to wait until she had time to heat the big kettle in the back room. Once more her father caught her attention, rooting around in the cabinets and coming up with a key. It made the young woman tilts her head slightly, “Just bo be safe. Maybe it’s the weather or the stories from town souring my mood…” The older man sighed and shook his head. “I will get the back door. Get the table set would you.”

“Of course,” Eliana stated, already heading over to the small round table to set it. “Are you sure everything is okay…” She could not remember either door ever being locked before. No one in this sleepy little valley ever locked their doors. There was never any need for such a thing. Still, the young woman wanted for an answer to her question as she set down wooden bowls and plates. Only to stop as her father came back into the room, a thick belt slanted around his waist and from the belt hung a sword.

The shutters had not yet been closed, so as he took a seat at the table Eliana followed his eyes out of the window and peered out into the night air. Though, all she could see was moon shadows. “Where did that come from?” She asked, turning back to her father.

“This? I got it a long time ago…. Far away from here.” He offered a soft chuckle as Eliana went to fix their bowls full of strew. Placing bread upon the plates. “I still think I paid too much for it and well, your mother never liked it. But I was young and it seemed worth the price.”

Before Eliana could ask anything more, she watched as her father straightened up, shadows dancing across one of the walls from the outside. Then came a heavy thump at the door, the rattling of a lock. “One of the neighbors…” He lied, Eliana knew he was lying. The nearest neighbor was an hour away and would never leave his house in the middle of the night. That, and the way his hand rested on the sword’s hilt… “I don’t think…”

Before the man could finish, the door burst open and pieces of the iron lock went flying across the floor.

Plot Eight: w/ IronQuill
-- Fantasy Wasteland Survival
-- Main Pairing: Exile x Exile
-- Altertive Pairings: Slaver x New Exile | Barbarian x New Exile | Outcast x New Exile | Mercenary x New Exile | Bandit x New Exile | New Exile x New Exile

We are exiles, two of thousands cast out to fend for themselves in a barbaric wasteland swept by terrible sandstorms and besieged on every side by Enemies. It is here we must fight to survive, build and dominate.

Hungry, thirsty and alone, MC finds herself awakening in the very harsh environment of the barbaric wasteland we find ourselves trapped in. How long YC has been here is all up to you. Maybe he is part of one of the many tribes that call this land home, a brave warrior or even a chieftain. Or maybe he is one of the lone outcast fighting to survive in his hostile world. There are many options we can play with when it comes to this setting.

While I don't know much of the Conan story, I have played the Conan Exile game and would like to follow the setting a bit. With our characters being trapped in hostel wastelands. I would like a lot of world & character building. 

The baked sand seemed to crack under the feet of the exile, the hot air making it hard to breathe even with the cloth that covered her face. The wind that blew across the land kicking up clouds of sand that stung her skin and burned her eyes as she did her best to push forward. But each step was agony under her bare feet, her body only covered by the scraps of cloth that had been left on her to shield her modesty from the kiss of the sun. It did nothing to protect the rest of her as she felt her skin slowly burning as she followed the old path in this wasteland.

There had been nothing waiting for her when she awoke at the foot of a large wooden cross. Hunger gnawed at her stomach, and her throat burned with the need for water. A few times the soft pink of her tongue licked at the cracked skin of her lips, hoping that it would somehow help. All it left was an unpleasant feeling that she would wipe away with the back of her hand.

In the dancing heat waves on the horizon, she could see what looked like pillars, maybe a few trees. But they felt so far away and the sun was at its peak in the sky. But that was the only way she could think of going, everywhere else was an endless desert. The golden dunes of which seemed to stretch on for miles in every direction but this one.

It was her hope that she could find something there. A bit to drink, shade to shield herself until the sun started to set. There was little hope that she would find something to eat so soon, as much as she hated to admit it, such things would have to come later.

So for what felt like hours she made her way across the hot stones and sands of the worn path she was on. Until the first shadow of the stone pillars offered her some shelter from the pain of the sun and the sting of the wind. Her eyes going wide as she saw a small stream of water running through a few pine trees. The idea that someone or something else could be nearby never crossed her mind as she rushed to the cool oasis. Her hands at once dipping into the cool water as she dropped to her knees. Her lips and throat quickly taking the drink that was waiting for her. 

Plot Nine: w/ shengami & imjessme
-- Warhammer: 40k
-- Main Pairing: Night Lords x Serf
-- Altertive Pairings: Chaos Astartes X Serf

In this story, I will be playing a young woman captured during a Choas raid. While I would like it to be a Night Lords RP, any legion or Warband will do. This story would include strong Dom/sub | Master/slave elements with her being trained to take care of his needs. From helping care for his armor and weapons to satisfying more primal needs.

What could she remember? Nothing much, it was all a big blur leaving her mind a mess of half-memories which only brought more questions than real answers. She remembered running, someone had been chasing her. After her. But why? The darkness that now surrounded her only adding to the mystery of, -What had happened? Where was she and how did she get there?- Yet, the moment she felt herself trying to come up with some logical answer, the pain once more swallowed up her mind.

Pain so full, so real, so all-consuming filled her body and for a moment she honestly didn’t feel the pain anymore. She could not tell what hurt more, or what didn’t hurt. Her muscles screamed at her. Everything was sore, pure unending agony. At first, the young woman thought she must be dreaming, some kind of awful nightmare that if she could just fall back to sleep, she would be able to wake up once more.

After all, she was no stranger to nightmares. If she could only just wake up.

Yet, when she did open once bright blue eyes all she saw was the same darkness.

It made her wonder if she had really opened her eyes.

Her head slumped forward, too tired to hold up her head any longer. The pain in her shoulders only a dull moment in the pain that was now her life. Sleep, yes…if she could just go back to sleep she would awaken from this nightmare.

Yet sleep would not come to her. Not fully. Instead, there was a sound. Startling in the silence, the loud clang enough to both awaken the woman fully and drawn a muffled cry from her lips. Her body growing tense as she tried to ready herself for whatever was going to come. Nothing did. Slowly she moved her head around, the effort alone making her want to sleep some more. Everything was stiff, her bones cracked as she craned her neck.

There was something here, she could feel it. It made her heart race. The blood flowing faster made her body burn with pain and energy it forced from her body. What little of it that was left.

Plot Ten:
-- Warhammer: 40k
-- Main Pairing: Astartes x Dark Eldar

In this AU of Istvaan 3 the Forces of the Warmaster have made a deal with the forces of the Drukhari, their payment (When Fulgrim Meets up with the Eldar in his book, Fulgrim, they turn out to be Dark Eldar and not a Craft World)  ... The loyalest among their legions. While I am fine with OCs (As long as they are from the Sons of Horus, Emperor's Children, Death Guard or World Eaters) I am really looking for someone to play loyalest OCs such as (Loken, Saul, etc).

The Archon moved through the hall of her Kabal once more, the Black Sentinels had gotten a great haul from their deal...alliance with the great Warmaster. A soft purr leaving her throat as moved about the dark halls of her home, heading toward one hall in particular. It was such a lovely hall, her new -Astartes- standing guard like...well...silent sentinels. Their armor mag locked to the walls, keeping them from doing much of anything. Oh yes, this had been a good alliance indeed.

She could spend hours walking this hall, admiring the armor and markings of each. It made her lick her lips, they were so interesting, how they colored their armors with such things. The bits of paper from honor seals still hung from the rare metal. No one dared to touch them, no, they were her’s. All of them. Twenty-five adoring each side of the hall. Though one had caught her eye more than the others, for now at less, she had come to learn that his name was (......)...of the (.....) from his markings. She had one other from his Legion. A true prize these were the hunters of Xenos, warriors of the Emperor and sons of the human crusade. Though she had yet to get his name.

He had been the first to speak out to her, cursing her. And she had, had fun with him. Finding the endurance of these men to be quiet fascinating. Oh yes, it had taken nearly two months under her blades and other devices to get him to speak once more to her. To answer her questions honestly. It had taken almost another two before he started to whimper and cry at the sight of her.

And now, nearly seven months after the events of Warmaster’s Crusade he finally nuzzled into her hand when offered to him as she walked down the hall. Like the good dog, he was...after all he was a dog of the Imperium was he not? A twisted smile crossed her face as she drew her claws along the man’s face, allowing a moan to echo into his brother’s ears for the first time. Her soft whispers only known to (......) and maybe the two next to him.

Oh, how lovely she was. Long hair of raven black framing a youthful face marked by scars that were put there by her own hand. Her long neck collared by thick leather and rare metals as straps crossed and crissed around her body. Holding up bits of leather and cloth that kept her teasingly modest. Hinting at what might be under such small parts of clothing. Her right hand seeming to tip in long, sharp claws.

She heard a sound, a smile parting her lips. A sweet smile. Warm and loving, like that of a seductive lover as her eyes rested on the one that (......) called....

[Spero]

"Final Fantasy XIV Request"
Final Fantasy XIV | Adventure | Pairings | Plots

---RP Medium:---
-- Final Fantasy XIV: Online
-- Elliquiy Forums

"The World is Changing..."

"The Muses Within"

"Game Characters"

• Eri -- Rogue/Ninja | Elezen | Female | FxM • Spero -- Scholar/Dragoon | Hyur | Female | FxM

• Ren -- Bard/White Mage | Miqo'te | Female | FxM • Arc -- Black Mage/Red Mage | Elezen | Male | FxM & MxM

•Andre -- White Mage | Elezen | Male | MxM

"The Settings"


"A Realm Reborn"
• Canon x OC
• OC x OC

"Heaven's Sword"
• Canon x OC
• OC x OC

Plot Spero:
-- Final Fantasy - Heaven's Sword
-- Main Pairing: Spero x OC
-- Altertive Pairings: Spero x Brother | Spero x Soldier

Spero Ancora was born to a different name to a minor noble house in Ishgard, the youngest of their six children. As she grew older, it was decided that in an effort to strengthen ties with another noble house, she would be squired to one of their House knights. From there, she trained to join the Temple Knights with the hopes of eventually joining the revered Order of the Knights Dragoon. There was some dabbling in astromancy, in an effort to make herself more useful to her comrades.

She joined the forces that defended Ishgard from Nidhogg's Dravanian Horde, as had generations before her. It was one mission in particular that changed the course of her fate: her unit was ambushed in the Coerthan grasslands, and slaughtered. Able to escape, but cut off from the nearest outpost, Spero made a choice.

Instead of returning to Ishgard, she went south.

She found herself on Vylbrand, in La Noscea. Taking up a different name, Spero made her way to Limsa Lominsa, where she decided to lay low. This was made easier when the Calamity hit, and refugees sought shelter in the confusion and chaos. She joined the Arcanist's Guild, more to keep an ear out for incoming shipments or visitors from Coerthas, but also to explore the art of arcanima itself. When information about the lost art of Scholars was made available, Spero was one of the first to jump at the opportunity to learn.

She has since ventured out from La Noscea, and seeks lost knowledge and histories elsewhere.